


Where should we file that, Scully?

by Sarie_Fairy



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Breasts, F/M, Kissing, NSFW, Sex, Smut, basement office
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2021-02-07 18:10:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21462349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarie_Fairy/pseuds/Sarie_Fairy
Summary: I wrote this fic quickly from the following prompts:17. “Bite me” from @purrykatand18. “If you insist” @frangipanidownunderThank you my LoveliesIt's smutty and NSFW 😜
Relationships: Fox Mulder & Dana Scully, Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Comments: 11
Kudos: 165





	Where should we file that, Scully?

The haze of the July heat permeated their basement office. Swirling around them like an omnipresent reminder of a life beyond their world inside. Belying their suits and long woollen jackets; fitting outfits for monster chasing, not the warm, light, summer, beating down outside. Seeping in.

They were both considerably stripped of their usual uniforms. Scully’s nylons in the trash in the bathroom, having ripped on their journey to free her hot and bothered legs. Her camisole stuffed into her handbag and more buttons undone than her breasts peeking out of the cups of her bra, should have allowed. Mulder without his jacket and tie, buttons similarly arranged. Sleeves rolled to reveal his tennis player forearms.

There was no monster chasing today. They were filing, organising, tidying. The remnants of their in-the-office lunch, on his desk. Water pooling at the bottom of two tumblers, the ice in the bottom slowing melding into the desk, leaving evidence of the condensation in inkblot rings on the dark wood.

Those forearms of Mulders were now deep in the second draw of the cabinet behind his desk. Scully, leaning over said desk, shuffling papers around.

They had been bickering. Disagreeing on where to file certain cases. Arguing about whose ‘system’ made more sense. The heat and lack of a case file to sink themselves into, bubbling up, invading their usual ease and rapport.

“You’re not taking me seriously.” Scully had said to him before, when she was stating her case as to why it would be best to file cases, alphabetically, by victims’ surnames.

Mulder had managed to convince her, that due to the nature of the cases, they really must be filed as the paranormal phenomena at the centre of each case. That, she had agreed to. Now their discussions had shifted to which exact phenomena each file fell under, and if indeed, the case was paranormal at all.

“Scully, this case was clearly lycanthrope, I’ll even let you file it under ‘W’ for the more commonly known _werewolf_. It wasn’t a case of, what did you call them, ‘madmen howling at the moon’.” He moved closer to her. A glint of a smirk at the corner of his lips. “You’d fill a whole cabinet under ‘N’ for ‘Nut-job’ if you had your way.”

“Oh, bite me, Mulder.” She said. The heat, the stuffy office, and that fact that it didn’t seem to be getting to him, getting to her.

“If you insist.” He said, taking a further step towards her. She swivelled on the spot and straighten up to face him.

He lent into her space and his tongue hit the skin at the curve of her neck and shoulder, (exposed due to her opened blouse), just a fraction before his teeth closed around her flesh, and gently nipped. All this happened in a moment before she had a chance to react. Then she did. She pulled the top of her body back from him. Clocked him with a stare.

“What the hell?”

He smirked at her. Playfully.

“What was that?” She said, confusion spread across her face.

“Just me, taking you seriously, Scully.”

Her brow furrowed.

“You ask me to.” He said, by way of explanation.

The confusion on her face melted into incredulity into embarrassment and then… she bit her lip. The push/pull of their energy all morning, the heat and her frustration and the heady whiff she just got of his sweet, sweaty scent, all combining to compel her reply.

“It hurt.” She said in a soft voice neither of them recognised as ever having passed her lips before. 

“I didn’t mean to hurt you, Scully”, he said, stepping the final step into her space. He descended on her shoulder again. His lips pressing into the still moist spot where his tongue and teeth had just been.

She tilted her neck, affording him more space. He licked her skin. Kissed her again, lightly sucked.

Still hovering close to her, he lifted his lips to ask, “is that better?”

“A little.” She said as she turned her face into his. He lifted his lips a little further from her shoulder, twisted into her. Their lips were so close, now breathing the same breath. They both stilled there for a moment.

“I know what will make it better.” She breathed, in that same voice.

“You do?” He panted back.

She quickly tuned to the desk, scooped her fingers into one the tumblers and fished out a lasting cube of ice. She turned back to him, fixed his gaze and popped it into her mouth. She leaned into him then, and kissed him. Her wet pink lips pushed onto his. His eyebrows lifted slightly when her cold tongue licked between his lips. He parted them for her, but drew back once he received the slither of ice from her mouth to his.

She smirked at him. “For the bite.” Her explanation.

I twinkle danced across his eyes and he found her shoulder again. Kept in place by his lips, he used his tongue to swirl the quickly disappearing ice over her hot skin. Her head fell back, and a breathy ‘ah’ was released into the room. He moved then. Trailed his ice-cold tongue down, over her clavicle, across to the top of her sternum. He licked at her there, opened his mouth, let the cold-water trickle out, down over her skin. Down; a small line journeying, disappearing into her cleavage. He stood. Was directly in front of her now. His hands steady, holding the tops of her arms.

She lifted her head. Met his eyes. “Aren’t you going to clean me up?” She looked down between her breasts.

His breath caught in his throat. He sucked his lips between his teeth. Then moved. Sat himself at the edge of the desk, pulled her over and settled her between his knees. Undid a single button to reveal her bra. “Scully, Jesus.” His response to the vision before him.

He placed a hand either side of her ribcage. Bent in and pushed the flat of his tongue on to her skin above the little bow in the middle of her lingerie. Followed the line of moister up between the volume of her breasts, up over her chest, up one side of her neck and stopped under her ear. He lingered there, kissing and sucking.

Her hands fell into his hair. She grabbed him and pulled him off her. His head jerked back and he was met with her hot breath. Her mouth almost touching his now. She angled her face to his. Opened her mouth and licked at him. Licked his chin, his bottom lip, before her mouth clamped around his top lip, crushing his nose to her cheek. Her tongue pushed into his mouth as she pulled his face closer. He opened his mouth to her. Met her tongue and licked, circled, tasted.

He moved the hands at her sides, moved them closer, cupped her breasts; pushed them together. His thumbs dragged over each of her nipples; pearling hard beneath the fabric.

They stayed connected in their kiss, his thumbs still over her breasts, his fingers wrapped around her to guide her as he stood and moved. Turned them around and sat in the office chair. She was again between his legs. Their lips broke apart, separating them for a moment. A conversation in their stare. At almost the same time their fingers frenzied at each other’s buttons. Undoing, pushing and pulling cotton off hot skin, relieving each other of their garments.

Scully shot her hand up under her skirt, found her underwear and roughly dragged them down and off. Mulder watched, dumbfounded for a moment, before following her lead. He undid his fly, grabbed at the waist bands of his pants and boxes, lifted his hips and shucked them down.

Scully’s hands at shoulders pushed him back down onto the chair. She hitched up her skirt and climbed onto him, sunk herself onto his hard cock. Deep and hot and so wet.

Their sounds of pleasure a duet of ecstasy.

“Fuck, Mulder….” and “oh fuck me” from him, their voices crashing over one another.

Then.

They stopped. Her sitting, facing him, her arse flush to the top of his thighs, him sheathed completely. Her arms around his neck. His hands still, at her hips. Eyes locked. Breathing heaving. A strange calm before a storm. A flash of ‘what are we doing’ crossing between them. Breath. Chests up and down in unison. The only movement in the room.

They take the words from each other. Don’t let them pass. Lips pulling together, smashing.

And then she began to rock, tilted her hips, a slow pendulum, moving him with her. Within her. His hands embraced her. He reached around and unclasped her bra, lips still locked. He dragged her straps over her shoulder, down her arms. Left her lips to un-cup her from the fabric. Throwing it on the desk.

He wrapped his arms, tightly around her waist, forcing her chest forward and up. He lent in, opened his mouth, wide, taking as much of her breast as he could. Clamping his lips down and pulling back until his teeth found her nipple. He nipped at her, and then swirled his tongue. Suckled and licked. Swapped his attentions between her pert, swollen breasts.

Scully’s movements sped up. Mulder used his hold on her to lift her slightly off his cock on her back swing, then pulled her down hard, when she rocked toward him, nestled as close to possible into his groin. Back and off, forward and down. Over and again. Faster and faster. Harder and harder.

He loosened an arm, brought his hand down to where they were joined, found the top of her folds and pushed with his thumb. Slid around her clit and gauged her reaction. Settled on a pattern that stimulated her walls to clench around him.

They moved together. The chair slightly rolling with the waves of motion. They were fixed. Coupled. An erratic melding of bodies into one. Swaying together, writhing. Speeding each other towards the edge. An indecipherable combination of breathy words, of names, and prays and incantations.

They came together. As one. Grasping, joining they mouths once again, taking each other’s sounds of pleasure. Swallowing them for their own. Trembling. Quivery. Boneless bodies, shells of themselves, draped over one another.

Breathing steadied, and bones returned. Their limp limbs became purposeful embraces. Caresses and gentle kisses.

“Where do we file that Scully?” Mulder said, breaking the silence. “Under ‘H’, for hot, or _hot as fuck_? Or ‘S’ for Scully is so fucking sexy… ?” He panted, a smile piercing his voice.

Her breath was still heavy, she smiled into his mouth. “What if,” she said, leaning away, tracing a line on his cheek, “…we don’t file this one, Mulder…. Maybe we leave this case opened?” She smirked at him.

He grinned. Gently brought his face to hers and kissed her tenderly before pulling away to speak.

“Hmmm. Definitely. Definitely a good idea, Scully.” He cupped her face, kissed her left cheek.

“…keep this case open.” He confirmed, kissing her right cheek.

She bit her lip.

“One that needs a lot more investigation, Agent Scully.” He said finally.

She moved in, hovered over his mouth. “….lots and lots of investigating, Agent Mulder,” she agreed, before moving in and pressing her lips to his again.


End file.
